Page 97 of Shattered
“Maybe tomorrow,” I lied. “I forgot I’m working tonight.”
“Let’s plan on it. You’ll see you like it,” he said.
I forced a smile and let myself out, stomping through the brush. In the morning, an anonymous tip would be left for the police about Jake’s whereabouts, along with details about where to find the souvenirs from each kill. There would likely be enough evidence that would prevent Jake from being convicted of the Angel’s murders, but I hoped that once the police questioning started, that the servers would come out with the confessions needed to make him pay for his own crimes. Maybe he didn’t have to die, but maybe he could rethink his habits behind steel bars, and figure out a way to put those actions in the past.
But whatever happened, that was up to him now.
I opened the car door and sighed. The leathery smell of Rourke’s gloves and mask filtered up to my nose, even though they were tucked away in the glove compartment. I sighed a deep, heavy, satisfied breath.
“Where to?” Rourke asked.
Our first stop was to get our new identities so that we could travel without being picked up by law enforcement easily. But the real question was after. Where would the world take us?
“Let’s go somewhere tropical,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to see what paradise is like.”
“Humid,” Rourke said, turning the key in the ignition.
“I can get acclimated to anything.”
“I know you can.”
He pulled onto the road and turned on the radio. We passed the gleaming Dahlia District to the side, and headed for our next destination.
